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Sometimes when the Texas sun begins to set and he's driving home across the desert, glimpses of that magic New York season play across John Elliott's mind.
In Jacksonville, Fla., memories flood one of Elliott's fellow defensive linemen on the 1969 Super Bowl champion New York Jets when he learns that he has just outlived another opponent.
"Whooo-eeee," wails Paul "Rocky" Rochester, a recovered alcoholic who collects his enemies' obituaries and mixes tales of gridiron glory with those of near-death bouts with booze since his playing days ended on that glorious day in Miami 25 years ago this winter.
In a quiet financial office in El Paso, the old wide receiver, Don Maynard, sometimes lets out a sigh for his hurting hands. In South Florida, Joe Namath is busy with his two young daughters and a career in commercial endorsements. Johnny Sample is in Philadelphia preparing for his tennis tournament. Former kicker Jim Turner speaks of sports on his drive-time Colorado radio show. Ex-punter Curley Johnson happily makes his Mexican salsa in Texas.
These are the 1968-69 New York Jets, the Beatles of professional football, linked forever by what they accomplished a quarter-century ago.
Though they're scattered around the country, working as engineers, ranchers, artists, salesmen, these old Jets of the old American Football League seem as close a bunch today as they were known to be back then. Only the miles keep them apart.
Perhaps the bond was cemented when no one thought they could beat the Raiders - then of Oakland - let alone the Colts - then of Baltimore. Whatever, they were certainly unified by Namath's lightning-rod words during a steak dinner at a Miami awards ceremony, guaranteeing victory over Matte, Bubba, Unitas and Shula and the NFL establishment.
"Someone in the crowd said, `We're gonna kill you, Namath,' and I said, `Wait a minute, you guys from Baltimore have been talking a lot, but we're going to beat you,"' Namath recalled recently from a park near his Florida home, where his daughters Jessica, 8, and Olivia, 3, played on toy horses.
"It wasn't a planned thing, it was more anger and frustration than anything," he said. "We just felt we had a good team. We had a lot of confidence."
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